


Second Chances

by i_know_its_0ver



Category: The Eagle (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_know_its_0ver/pseuds/i_know_its_0ver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>modern AU where Marcus is a hitman who pays for an escort service before he plans to commit suicide. He gets Esca.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted as an anonymous prompt fill on the lj Eagle kink meme. de-anoning for the first time here.
> 
> Warnings for explicit sexual content and shameless hooker!fic. seriously, I apparently have no shame left at all.

Marcus had made up his mind; tonight was it. There was no point anymore, and he was sick of holding on to hope that would never lead him anywhere. It was better to end it while he still had a shred of dignity left.

Marcus had been one of the top assassins in the world only a few short months ago. His code name was whispered in dark dens and posh offices around the world; powerful men trembled at the mere thought of him. If you wanted a job done efficiently and cleanly, without any trace, Marcus was the one you called.

But that was before the accident. For such a powerful and dangerous man to be undone by a car crash was an ironic twist of fate, one he cursed every day. In mere seconds he had been reduced to a powerless child, unable to even stand on his own. It had taken months for him to recover enough to even hobble about with a cane.

He would never again be as powerful and graceful as he once was. His work was finished. The nefarious men of the world heaved a collective sigh of relief while Marcus sat on the bed of a rundown motel, cursing his fate and all he had lost. He had spent so many years on the move, working alone, living like a shadow. Now he had no one. Most of the wealth he had accumulated was gone as well, eaten up by exhaustive medical bills and heavy handed bribes to ensure there would be no lawsuits and complicated questions. He couldn’t even live out his pathetic days in comfort.

Marcus decided it was time to cut his losses and cut ties with this world. There wasn’t much he would miss, and no one to mourn him. He had never been a particularly spiritual man, but some part of him thought this was a fitting end for one who had spent his life violently cutting short the lives of others. There was no reason his life should be any more sacred.

He had no affairs to put in order, no goodbyes to make. All that was left was to make his peace and get it over with. But it seemed a waste to leave this life without experiencing its pleasures one last time. It had been so long since Marcus had felt the touch of another human being, besides the cold clinical hands of the nurses and doctors who had looked after him. Just once more, it would be nice to feel the pleasures of the body, before he bid them goodbye forever.

His cheap motel was in a seedy neighborhood of a seedy city, and finding someone to accommodate his desires wasn’t difficult. The man at the reception desk had leered and offered him a business card, folded and stained from repeated handling. Marcus called the number, ordering companionship as easily as ordering take out delivery. He was asked if he had any preferences and assured that the agency offered a fine selection of boys to cater to any taste. But Marcus was beyond caring about the specifics. A warm body was a warm body, nothing beyond that made any difference.

To pass the time until his guest arrived Marcus took apart his handgun and cleaned it with meticulous care, checking over all the parts. Most of his work was done with long range rifles, it was safer that way. But this gun had protected him through many scrapes and close calls, and he knew it worked perfectly. There would be no chance of mistakes.

There was a sharp knock on the door just as he returned the gun to his bag. Marcus straightened with a strange sense of resignation as he moved to the door, not bothering to check the peep hole before pulling it open.

The young man on the other side caught Marcus by surprise. He was a good deal shorter than Marcus, but with broad shoulders and long limbs that gave him an imposing presence. His sandy hair was cropped short and styled haphazardly, and his chin was covered in at least several days’ growth of scruff. He looked young, certainly several years younger than Marcus, but there was nothing boyish about him. Maybe it was the firm set of his jaw, or the fierceness that seemed to be hiding behind his cool gaze. Marcus couldn’t place what it was, but from first glance there was something captivating about him.

Without so much as a word the boy stepped past him and into the room, surveying the layout carefully before turning back to face his client.

Before Marcus’s thoughts could even catch up the boy began to talk.

“These are the rules: $300 an hour, you pay for a minimum of two hours upfront, the rest can be settled after. Nothing violent, nothing that leaves marks. If I say stop at any time, you stop. Everything else is negotiable.”

His voice was soft, but the tone was firm and authoritative, brooking no argument. He didn’t seem intimidated by Marcus’s size, meeting his gaze with defiant eyes. Marcus couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“That’s fine,” Marcus replied at last, grabbing his wallet from the top of the rickety dresser and pulling out a wad of bills. He held them out and the boy snatched them up, quickly shoving them in his jeans pocket.

“So how do you want it?” the boy asked, pulling off his jacket and slipping off his shoes, eyes never leaving Marcus.

Marcus nearly startled. He had been so preoccupied watching the boy that he had nearly forgotten why he was here. Right, he reminded himself, sex. This was about enjoying his final night. He really hadn’t expected such an oddly alluring partner, but all the better, he may as well make the most of it.

“We’ll start on the bed, then,” Marcus said, clearing his throat gruffly. He had been with plenty of hired lovers before. In his line of work it was safer not to get close to anyone, and with a paid incentive they were more likely to keep their mouths shut and their curiosity carefully in check; no questions, no commitment, no complications. He had ordered men, instructed them carefully, taken his pleasure with wanton abandon.

There was something different about the way this boy looked at him, however, that made Marcus hesitate. It was like he saw Marcus as a predator who might turn on him at any moment, and was determined not to show any weakness. It wasn’t the fake seductive glances and false flattery he was accustomed to. It felt raw, without pretense, and it left Marcus on unstable footing.

The boy continued to strip himself methodically, laying his clothes in a neat pile on the end of the dresser. Before Marcus could bring himself to move a muscle the boy was standing naked before him, tall and powerful and unafraid, the jut of his chin bold, defying Marcus to find fault.

But he couldn’t, even if he had been so inclined. The boy was more well-built than he had looked beneath the baggy layers of clothing, his muscles lean and wiry, something strangely elegant about his form. Marcus surveyed him from head to toe, and when his eyes returned to the boy’s eyes they were staring back at him.

That intense gaze made heat coil in Marcus’s stomach, though he couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t a seductive gaze, not inviting or alluring; it was a challenge. And Marcus had never been one to back down from a confrontation.

Marcus pulled his clothes off deliberately, without haste, knowing those eyes were still locked on him. He could feel them skim over each inch of flesh he revealed as if it was a physical touch, burning into him. By the time he was fully undressed he could feel the beginnings of arousal stirring his cock.

When Marcus looked back up he found the boy staring at his injured thigh, the long pale scar running up the side and the numerous smaller ones from repeated surgeries to heal the shattered bone. No one else had seen it before but the hospital staff, and suddenly Marcus felt exposed in a way he never had before in his life.

The boy’s stare wasn’t pitying, like Marcus had expected. Instead he seemed somehow curious, maybe even intrigued by its unexpectedness. But before Marcus had time to dwell on the meaning of that look, the boy merely shrugged and glanced back up with a neutral expression, eyebrows raising slightly in expectation.

“On the bed,” Marcus commanded, sounding more gruff than intended. The boy’s whole demeanor was throwing him off, and now he was overly conscious of his injury. He felt his control of the situation slipping, and desperately wanted it back. He may be a washed up man at the end of his rope, but this was one situation where he was supposed to be in command, if only because he held the money. It wasn’t the kind of power he had once wielded, but now at the end he would take what he could get.

The boy complied, laying himself down carefully in the center of the bed, long limbs stretched gracefully. Marcus allowed himself to take in the sight for a few moments, noticing the sharp angles of his hips, the long line of his neck, the barely-there wisps of dark hair on his chest.

The boy, still calm and collected, had begun to harden under his gaze. His cock lay thick against his thigh, slender, but long and beautiful. That was all the invitation Marcus needed.

Marcus positioned himself carefully on his side, since he doubted his knees would support his weight for long, resting his head near the boy’s muscled thigh. He heard the boy inhale sharply as his breath ghosted across his hip, and his cock twitched in response. Marcus ran his tongue over the pale skin experimentally, tracing the grooves and angles of the bones beneath, dipping into the sharp hollows of his hips. The body beneath him shivered, and Marcus continued his exploration unhurriedly.

The boy made no sounds other than panting breaths and an occasional surprised gasp. He didn’t complain, or ask for more, but Marcus wasn’t disappointed; he took it as a challenge. Eventually he moved on from teasing the skin of his thighs with lips and nips of teeth, propping himself up so he could take the boy’s cock, now standing erect and eager, in his fist. He held it still as he licked a long stripe up the length, letting the flat of his tongue roam over it appreciatively. When he reached the tip he paused, waiting a beat before taking it into his mouth without warning, sucking on the tip lightly.

Finally the boy spoke, his voice strained, lips a determined line. “You don’t have to—“ he began, but Marcus cut him off with a quick dip of his head, taking more of his length into his mouth.

“I know,” Marcus replied, pulling his head back up so he could see the boy’s face, curling his fingers idly around the base of his cock. “I want to.”

Something in the boy’s expression softened, but it was fleeting, and soon the guarded look was back. He nodded curtly, not arguing the point any further, and Marcus returned to his ministrations.

Marcus worked slowly, teasing and keeping the boy on edge, never enough pressure to be truly satisfying. The boy’s hands had curled in the sheets at his sides, knuckles white from the strength of his grip. Marcus could feel the muscles of his thighs twitch under his hands as he bobbed over his length again, taking as much into his mouth as he could manage. As he was pulling back off again the hips beneath him suddenly followed him upwards, bucking into his mouth, trying to maintain contact. Marcus smirked as he moved his hands to those sharp hips, pinning them to the bed as he pulled away.

The boy’s face was flushed now, his pupils blown wide with lust, the traces of wariness gone. He gulped down deep breaths, chest heaving. He was a gorgeous sight to behold, and Marcus was almost ready to give in and take him. He was painfully hard himself, his neglected arousal making its displeasure known. But he wasn’t ready to give in just yet. It was like breaking a young colt; it had to give itself over to your command fully before you could reward it.

Marcus leaned down to take the boy in his mouth once again, his fist pumping in a tight circle around his base. He increased his pace, moving up and down in a steady rhythm, though not fast enough to be satisfying.

Finally the boy let out a grunt of frustration, and one of his hands let go of the sheets, darting out to grab Marcus’s hair and dig his fingers almost painfully into his scalp. Marcus glanced up at him without pausing.

“Please,” the boy whispered, and it was what Marcus had been waiting for.

Swiftly Marcus pulled himself away, leaving the boy whimpering quietly. He moved to the dresser and rifled through the discarded pile of clothes, finding several condoms and small tube of lube in his jacket pocket. He tossed them on the bed and followed, carefully maneuvering himself into a sitting position, back propped against the headboard.

The boy watched him carefully, though his gaze was now expectant rather than wary. He read Marcus’s intentions, quickly moving out of the way and repositioning himself over his lap, careful not to rest any of his weight on the injured thigh. He looked up at Marcus for further instructions, their faces only inches apart now. At this distance Marcus could make out the color of his eyes, a light sky blue flecked with a darker shade. They glanced back up, catching Marcus’s gaze, and something behind them seemed to soften again.

The boy took the small tube of lubricant and flipped the cap open, reaching to pour it over his fingers. But Marcus stopped him, grabbing his wrist and moving the tube over his own hand, coating it generously. The boy blinked in surprise but didn’t protest. He pulled himself up straight, balancing himself with hands on Marcus’s shoulders.

Marcus reached around behind him, smoothing a gentle hand over the appealing curve of his ass. The boy bucked impatiently, his cock pressing against Marcus’s chest. Marcus chuckled into his shoulder and set to work, running his slicked fingers over his entrance with one hand and continuing the soft caresses with the other.

The boy keened softly as the first finger entered him, moving slowly and carefully. Marcus let him adjust before pushing in farther, thrusting in and out at a slow pace until the boy started to push back against his finger, silently asking for more. Marcus pushed a second finger in, easier this time, and continued the slow movements. By the time he added a third the boy was rocking against him impatiently, thrusting himself farther down onto the fingers.

Marcus took this as a sign that he was ready and slowly withdrew. The boy took over from there, quickly positioning himself over Marcus’s straining cock and sliding himself down over it. He paused for a moment once Marcus was completely seated inside of him, his eyes shut tight. Marcus worried that he might be in pain, and ran a soothing hand over his thigh, hoping to calm him.

The boy’s eyes snapped open, but now they were gentle, looking at Marcus with a sort of wonder. Before Marcus could decide what to make of it the boy began to move, rolling his hips in short thrusts at first, gradually growing deeper and faster. Marcus tried to thrust his hips in time to the rhythm, though it was hard to get much leverage with his weak leg.

The boy didn’t seem to mind doing most the work, rocking himself in time with Marcus’s awkward thrusts, setting a pace he could keep up with. It felt amazing, better than Marcus could remember it ever being before; he wondered if it was because he knew it would be the last. The boy seemed to be feeling it too, his head lolling forward to rest on Marcus’s shoulder and he continued to works his hips up and down.

Marcus let his hands wander over the boy’s back and shoulders and down onto his hips, gripping tightly so he could feel their joint movement course through him. He wanted to touch and explore every inch while he had this one opportunity.

The boy suddenly groaned, a deep growling sound, and it made Marcus’s breath catch in his throat. Those blue eyes slid open again, dazed and blissed out, but still somehow piercing.

“Your name,” the boy panted, rocking his hips in time with Marcus’s thrusts, meeting him halfway. “Tell me your name.” It wasn’t a question, but a command, and Marcus would be damned if he didn’t find it incredibly sexy.

“Marcus,” he answered truthfully, not bothering to use one of his many aliases. There was no point now.

“Marcus,” the boy breathed against his throat, lips moving softly around the word. He repeated it several times as if testing it out, exploring the way it tasted in his mouth. Marcus groaned, increasing his pace, though his wasted muscles were beginning to tire.

“Your name,” Marcus choked out, though he hadn’t intended to. Even if he had been attracted to the strange boy since the moment he opened that door, he had been carefully avoiding becoming attached. This couldn’t mean anything, not now. But still, he just had to know.

“Esca,” the boy whispered, and Marcus groaned again, rolling the name around on his tongue. It was an unusual name, beautiful and enigmatic, just like the boy. No, just like Esca.

“More,” Esca groaned, “please,” and Marcus tried to comply, but his legs were shaking now with the effort, his thigh beginning to throb. Instead he did all he could to help him along, reaching one hand down to wrap around Esca’s cock, straining and leaking desperately. His other hand roamed over his back, pulling him closer so Marcus could scatter nips and licks across his shoulders and throat.

“Yes, Marcus,” Esca groaned in short grunts, the pace of his hips increasing to thrust into Marcus’s fist, his movements becoming frantic and erratic.

Marcus could feel how close he was, hovering right on the edge. He wasn’t far behind.

“Come on, Esca,” he murmured in his ear, and that was enough. Esca’s hips convulsed, losing all sense of rhythm as he came in Marcus’s fist, coating his fingers and stomach. Marcus tensed as Esca tightened around him, following him over the edge.

Marcus was still trying to catch his breath while Esca was already moving off of him, and Marcus felt a pang of disappointment that it was over, that this was it. No warm afterglow, no more whispered words. Though that was to be expected; this was a business deal, after all.

But Esca didn’t move away, didn’t get dressed and walk out. Instead he settled down beside Marcus, helping him to stretch out his cramped leg and lower himself down on his back. He watched Marcus with worried eyes for a moment, perhaps looking for signs of pain, but Marcus could only smile up at his frown. When Esca noticed Marcus’s grin he relaxed again, settling back down on the bed beside him.

Marcus wasn’t sure how much touching would be tolerated in this situation. He usually wasn’t one for cuddling, but watching Esca, his face flushed and chest still heaving softly, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out a hand and running it over his jaw and through his hair. Esca’s eyes closed momentarily at the contact, arching into the touch like a cat.

But when those eyes opened again they were serious, penetrating through Marcus’s carefully maintained defenses.

“What happened to your leg?” he asked, frank and not at all self-conscious.

Marcus felt himself cringe. It wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in some of his last moments. He had already spent enough time dwelling on the damned injury, right now he would rather focus on more pleasant things, like the way Esca’s hair curled haphazardly around his ears.

But there was no avoiding his earnest gaze. “Car accident,” Marcus answered simply, hoping that would close the issue.

Of course it didn’t. “Is it still painful?” Esca prodded, looking concerned but not pitying. It was a fine line that Marcus had learned to detect over his weeks in the hospital.

“Yes, sometimes,” he replied with a sigh, feeling its deep ache at that moment.

Esca simply watched him silently for a few moments, seeming to consider this. Marcus thought maybe he had been too brusque, but then Esca shifted minutely closer, one hand reaching out to brush Marcus’s hair off his forehead.

“Is that why you’ve given up?” he asked, and Marcus froze, his whole body tensing in surprise.

Esca continued without waiting for an answer. “When I first saw you I thought you would be one of those rough tough types who takes pleasure in exerting their strength over others. Those types are the worst, it almost never ends well.” Esca paused to examine Marcus’s face thoughtfully before continuing.

“But you’re not like that, you’re gentle, more gentle than any usual client. And there’s something else, as well, something hopeless about you. You didn’t even ask for my name when I came in. Most men ask for a name, even if they know it’s fake. They like to imagine there’s a connection, just for a little while. But you didn’t want that either.”

Marcus was almost too distracted by Esca’s voice to fully take in his words. He had a light accent that Marcus couldn’t quite place, which gave his words a melodic lilt. Marcus was astonished that the boy—Esca-- who had been so sullen and silent just a short while ago was now spouting flowing words of wisdom.

Somehow, unbelievably, Esca had seen through him. He certainly didn’t grasp the whole story, or even the full extent of Marcus’s resignation. But he had sensed something that Marcus had tried to keep hidden. A total stranger shouldn’t be able to read him this easily and so quickly, it was absurd, but also somehow…reassuring.

“You’re right,” Marcus replied simply, trying not to look him in the eye lest he give away any more of his secrets. His life was built on secrets; had never been such an open book before, and it felt dangerous.

Without warning Esca leaned in, capturing Marcus’s lips with his own. It was soft and gentle and reassuring, a kiss filled with more emotion than Marcus could remember feeling from another person in a long time.

“Don’t,” Esca whispered against his lips, but it was harsh and angry. Marcus pulled back so he could see his face, brow furrowed and eyes stormy. He had no idea what Esca meant.

“Don’t go through with it,” he continued and Marcus felt all the air rush from his lungs. He had no idea how this strange boy could possibly know what he had planned, or maybe he didn’t, exactly, but it hardly mattered. He was looking at Marcus with such a fierce anger and something like possessiveness, and Marcus didn’t know what to make of it. He only knew that he would do whatever Esca asked, just to make that pained look in his eye disappear.

“Ok,” Marcus murmured, nodding his head. And before he could blink Esca’s lips were back on his in a desperate kiss, quickly pushing his tongue past Marcus’s startled lips and exploring his mouth with a deep hunger. Marcus responded, arms wrapping around his back and pulling Esca in tighter, cradling the back of his head and holding him in place.

They broke apart gasping for air, curled around each other like winding ivy, overlapping and blending together seamlessly.

“If you have nothing else left, then be mine,” Esca whispered, and the fierce determination was back in his eyes. It was absolutely crazy, and Marcus should have been pulling himself away, fleeing for the door before this could get any more bizarre, but he couldn’t. Maybe it was crazy, but it felt right, like something he had been waiting for, all this time. He didn’t know why or how, but somehow it felt like this was meant to be.

Marcus nodded and Esca kissed him again. “Mine,” he repeated and Marcus echoed the word, making Esca grin, an expression that made him look younger and startlingly vulnerable.

Marcus had never been a spiritual man, but if he was he would have believed in things like divine retribution and payment for sins. Or maybe he would have believed in second chances. Either way, he had gotten one, not from some omniscient god, but from a fierce, powerful boy with a smile like the sun.


End file.
